


Ideal

by Dazzledfirestar



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Multi, Snowed In, Threesome - F/M/M, phil is not a morning person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 05:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3345812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzledfirestar/pseuds/Dazzledfirestar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't exactly what most people would consider a good way to spend a few days but what most people expected had never really been their style anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ideal

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Marvel Polyamory Micro-Bang.

It wasn’t ideal. Not by a long shot. Her mind spun over all the things that could be going wrong back at the Playground. All the things that went wrong with the helicopter. All the things that lead the three of them to a rundown cabin in the middle of nowhere.

There was wood for the stove and they had enough rations to last until the snow let up and Trip or Morse could get a quinjet to them. It wasn’t exactly a romantic getaway by any stretch of the imagination. But none of them had ever really been the romantic getaway types. 

Well, Phil tried. A couple times. It always ended in something going horribly pear-shaped and them going home early.

She couldn’t quite feel too bad about being stuck though. Not really. The cabin was warm with the fire going. None of them were hurt—tired and a little stiff and sore, sure but nothing serious—and the rarest of occurrences, all three of them were there together. Especially after everything that had happened in New York and in DC, that seemed like a gift.

And it was one Melinda was finding very hard to enjoy. She stood in the narrow doorway that lead into the small bedroom which held a bed far too small for three adults—though they did manage rather well last night—and watched as Phil and Nick slept. She smiled, sipping the unsurprisingly disgusting instant rations coffee as they both mumbled and pressed closer to each other in turn. She thought about crawling back in and reclaiming her spot between them but the way they’d curled around each other… well she wasn’t going to interrupt that.

She’d told Phil time and again that they had to talk to each other or nothing was going to get fixed. She’d been trying for months to get them in the same place but it took HYDRA doing something stupid to get it done. Melinda had been prepared to play referee again but it seemed like some of the trust and love between the two men was coming back. She had a theory that hearing that Nick was dead had put things into perspective for Phil but she hadn’t brought it up. One day, but it wasn’t the time just yet. Once they were all settled back into the way things were, sure. But not yet.

A groan caught her attention and she smiled and Nick moved to pull Phil closer. “That coffee smells like death, Melinda.” He muttered into Phil’s neck.

“There’s enough for all of us too.” She smirked. A mildly disgruntled noise came from Phil’s pillow as he pulled the blankets over his head. “I didn’t say you had to get up.”

“But there’s coffee.”

Nick chuckled and nuzzled Phil’s neck again. “Only technically.”

“It’ll keep. Go back to sleep.” Melinda shook her head at the two of them. If the world could see them like this, that whole bad ass secret agent image they both had to some degree would have suffered. Though she was fairly sure there were a few lucky souls that had gotten a briefer glimpse of their softer sides, the list was short.

“Come back.” Phil’s voice was still muffled by the blankets and his pillow. 

Nick smiled up at her and shrugged a shoulder. “He’s got a point. You know he sleeps better with you.”  
“Both of you.” His words got a little clearly as he corrected Nick. “Don’t do that self-effacing shit right now.”

“Sure thing, Director.” Nick laughed warmly and reached out to Melinda. “Come on, May. Don’t make us beg.” He smirked.

She shook her head. It was the laugh that did it. For a second she remembered a time before Nick was director of SHIELD, before aliens were a normal part of life, before superheroes and HYDRA. That laugh had been far more ready back then. Phil’s had too. If she was really honest about it, they’d been masters at making her laugh back then. She wasn’t one for nostalgia but that sound brought back a lot of the early days and they’d been very good.

She put her cup down on the battered chest of drawers by the door and slid out of Phil’s shirt. “I guess it is a little cold to be up and around yet.” She smiled and got under the covers, pushing Phil over and throwing one leg over his hip. A moment later she felt Nick’s hand slide up her thigh and rest on her hip. “Better?” She smirked at both of them.

A vaguely affirmative noise came from Phil as he pressed his lips to her neck lazily. Nick chuckled again, leaning over Phil to press a soft kiss to Melinda’s lips. “Pretty damn near perfect, I’d say.”

She hummed softly, settling in as Nick pulled the covers up over her shoulders. It wasn’t ideal. They all knew that. The cabin was cold and covered in snow and old and creaky. The rations were vaguely tasty and not in a good way. And Nick was right. The coffee smelled like death.

It wasn’t ideal. They’d been broken down, betrayed, hunted, murdered and worse. They’d punched holes in something that had originally been about trust and love and having a place that was safe and warm and not connected to the dangers and threats. There was a time when she was sure, as the world crumbled down around them, they wouldn’t be able to fix it. Nick would be dead. Phil would be an ally and she would be alone again.

It wasn’t ideal. For the apologies and slow rebuilding of thrust and love, it still wasn’t perfect again. If it ever had been. But that was the thing. Curled up there with their hands and lips and warmth around her she knew no matter how bad it got, the work and communication and effort and scheduling… all of it was absolutely worth it.

It wasn’t ideal. But ideal was overrated.


End file.
